


Beautiful Monster

by watyonameisgurl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: But also, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, a tiny bit of side larry, also, and i didn't wanna mislead anyone, and know that if you’re looking for smut, but there are some very very brief mentions of sex, cause for the most part, if you’re looking for something with no mention of sex, so just keep all that in mind before/while reading, that's what this is, this ain’t the place, this also ain’t the place, wanted to rate this as T, which wade a bit into the M territory in a couple of parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watyonameisgurl/pseuds/watyonameisgurl
Summary: Liam's starting to think that maybe he’s just hearing things after all, just overreacting or being paranoid. But when he goes to tug on the handle to the side door half-heartedly he’s surprised to find it unlocked. And is even more surprised at what he finds when he slides it open.“Um…hi,” says the person curled up inside. Liam can’t do anything but stare at the—admittedly quite attractive, if thin and slightly sickly-looking—man sitting in the middle of his van in a ratty old hoodie and leather jacket combo, knees up to his chest, with an unrolled sheet of insulation wrapped around him like a blanket burrito.“What in the hell?” Liam says when he finally manages to remember how to make his mouth form words.Or, Zayn is a homeless vampire who, unbeknownst to Liam, has been routinely breaking into Liam's van for a warm place to sleep. When Liam catches him in the act things end up going in a direction no one expected. And then shit gets weirder. Because Liam might also be hiding some secrets of his own...





	Beautiful Monster

**Author's Note:**

> so this was supposed to be my New Year’s Day gift to you guys but i just didn’t have a chance to review it like i wanted to in time so it’s just gonna have to be a (way) belated New Year’s gift lol (but on the bright side inspiration did happen to strike for the threequel fic during the interim of me finalizing the edits for this fic so it all worked out in the end and you’ll actually be getting a double feature/double belated New Year’s present cause the latest chapter for that will be up soon too [hopefully by tomorrow])!
> 
> anyways enough of me rambling, enjoy! :)

Liam’s up getting ready for an early morning run when he hears it. A muffled noise like something slamming shut. It’s the third time in a row he’s heard it but the first time he’s actually awake enough not to dismiss it as just a stray animal messing about in the bins or an early-rising neighbor shutting their front door too hard or something. Because now that he’s fully alert he’s certain that that was definitely the sound of a car door slamming shut. Specifically _his_ car. Or rather, van. He’d distinctly heard what sounded suspiciously like the soft swoosh of the side door sliding open and shut. Which is crazy because he’s certain that it’s locked and there’s literally nothing in there that’s worth stealing unless this particular thief likes rolls of pink fiberglass insulation, buckets of cement and caulk, or industrial pipes.

Opening his front door as softly as possible he steps outside cautiously, wary of the fact that someone could still be lurking around ready to ambush him at any moment. But it’s silent, nothing but the early-morning chirping of the birds and plants rustling in the chilly late-autumn wind. Liam steps over to his driveway, figuring that if anyone _was_ here, whoever they were, they’re most likely gone by now, but double-checking his doors and windows anyway just in case. Everything looks to still be intact. There’s no broken glass or dented metal that would suggest any kind of forced entry. The windows are all still shut tight and when he peers through the driver’s side window he can see both the front doors are still locked. He’s starting to think that maybe he’s just hearing things after all, just overreacting or being paranoid when it really was just a neighbor or a stray animal. But when he goes to tug on the handle to the side door half-heartedly—more just an extra precaution for himself than anything—he’s surprised to find it unlocked. And is even more surprised at what he finds when he slides it open.

“Um…hi,” says the person curled up inside. Liam can’t do anything but stare at the—admittedly quite attractive, if thin and slightly sickly-looking—man sitting in the middle of his van in a ratty old hoodie and leather jacket combo, knees up to his chest, with an unrolled sheet of insulation wrapped around him like a blanket burrito.

“What in the hell?” Liam says when he finally manages to remember how to make his mouth form words. The man’s still just sitting there like though this is no big deal and, flabbergasted and really annoyed, Liam leans in, not quite sure yet even as he reaches inside whether he means to yank the insulation off the man or drag him bodily out of the van but not much caring either way. Until the man gets a downright murderous look in his eyes that is, even as he’s rearing himself back from Liam’s reach.

“You might wanna back up,” he says, suddenly sounding strained.

“ _Back up_?” Liam repeats incredulous, and now he’s definitely angry and 100% certain about dragging this man roughly out of his van. “ _Get out_ ,” he spits as he reaches further inside to try and grab a hold of the guy’s jacket but the man just ducks back, looking somehow murderous and anxious at the same time.

“I will. As soon as you back up.”

“Why the hell should _I_ back up? It’s _my_ fucking van. Now _get out_.”

“Because I find you quite fit and I’d really rather not rip your throat out.”

“ _What_?” Liam says, and now he’s the one rearing back because _what_?

“If you wanna keep that hand I suggest you move it,” the man says, nodding down to Liam’s hand, still outstretched, though not quite as close to him as it was a moment ago.

“Fuck this, I’m calling the police,” Liam says pulling all the way back from the doorway of the van and reaching for his phone in the pocket of his joggers. This guy’s clearly psycho and, angry as he may be, Liam’s not about to be on the receiving end of whatever the hell he might try.

“I wouldn’t do that either,” the man says and he still sounds a bit strained, but less so now that Liam’s moved away a bit. “More people, more bodies. More bodies, more mess. More blood on your hands. Well, figuratively speaking, for you anyway—literally for me—though I reckon if it comes to that you’ll be too dead to care.”

“ _What?_ ” Liam says again, shaking his head back and forth in confusion, and then remembering that whatever this guy’s on about doesn’t even matter. “Look, just get the fuck out of my van.”

The man rolls his eyes like this is all so exasperating for him. Like _he’s_ the one who’s been affronted instead of Liam. “I’ve told you, I _will_. As soon as you back away.”

Liam blows a hot breath out through his nose and curls his hands into fists but backs away from the door.

“Further,” the man says.

Liam goes.

“ _Further_ ,” the man prompts, nodding and moving his hands in a sort of shooing motion. The fucking _audacity_. Liam wants to punch his pretty face in. But he wants him gone more and so he obliges, albeit stiffly and very angrily.

When the man finally steps out Liam is reminded of how sickly he looks, even more so in the pale light of morning, and feels a bit guilty for his violent thoughts. The man stumbles a bit as he steps down from the van, looking like he’s about to faint, and Liam instinctively starts to rush forward to help him but before he can even get more than two steps the guy holds up a hand to stop him, standing back up straight. “Don’t,” he says.

“Whatever.” Liam shrugs, throwing his hands up, palms out, before stepping back again. “But if you pass out in my driveway I’m calling 999 regardless.”

“Go ahead, if you want innocent blood on your hands.”

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck is _with_ you?” Liam says, shaking his head again. “ _You_ break into _my_ van at six in the morning, refuse to get out, threaten me, nearly pass out in my drive, and then threaten me again and expect me _not_ to call the police? Are you honestly _that_ mental?”

“I wasn’t threatening you, I was trying to save your life.”

“In what universe does threatening to ‘rip my throat out’ translate to saving my life?”

“In the one where a struggling vampire’s trying not to kill the fit bloke whose van he sometimes sleeps in.”

Liam is 5000% done.

*

_Two hours later_

Liam has no idea know how he ended up here. Two hours ago he was getting ready to go out on a nice morning jog on his day off and enjoy the fresh autumn air and now he’s got a kitchen full of raw meat and roadkill and smells like death.

He’s still not sure what even possessed him to go along with any of this in the first place. Maybe it was those damn doe eyes or those cheekbones or those long legs or maybe just his own penchant for never being able to turn down someone in need or maybe it was all of the above. But somehow, against his better judgment, he’d let the man—Zayn apparently—in, if only for the flimsy excuse of getting him out of the cold while Liam called 999 to try and see if he could get the guy some sort of immediate medical and psychological help. Except that then he’d nearly taken a chunk out of both Loki and Watson when they’d raced in from the back room to sniff out the new intrusion. Had just dropped to the floor lightning fast and yanked them both toward him with an unnatural speed and strength for his size, literally salivating between ragged breaths as he pushed his face forward to breathe them in, before shoving them back away again and staring at the floor, huffing like an asthmatic until he pulled himself together again.

That’s when Liam realized he was serious. That this wasn’t just some mental case he was bringing into his home but an actual live vampire.

Liam had still been outside on the front step—had let Zayn go in ahead of him, keeping a bit of distance between them per Zayn’s request—but in that moment he had seriously contemplated just shutting the door, locking Zayn inside, and running for his life. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact that that would be effectively sentencing poor Loki and Watson to death and he couldn’t do that to them.

Following the altercation with Zayn they’d run whimpering back to the rear room and Liam had no choice but to go in after them but before he could even get far enough to check on them or attempt to think up a good enough distraction to somehow sneak them back out with him like he was secretly planning, Zayn had passed out right in the middle of his living room. And despite all of Liam’s instincts telling him to take the opportunity and run, he couldn’t bring himself to just leave Zayn like that. He just looked so small and pale and helpless lying there unconscious on the grey carpet in his tattered clothes.

And so Liam had raided his fridge, specifically his stock of meat, for the freshest, bloodiest thing he could find. Settled on a slab of steak he’d just so happened to have bought the day before, drained as much blood from the package as he could into a cup, and placed it next to Zayn. He’d fully intended on making a hasty exit then, figuring that he’d done his part—or what he could anyway without risking his life or the lives of his dogs—to be a somewhat good samaritan. But of course at the first scent of the blood right next to him Zayn had come to before Liam could even get so much as one step away.

Zayn drained the cup and asked if there was more and, aware enough to be afraid this time of not obeying him and ending up dead, Liam went back to his stock of meat and drained every single package of beef and chicken and turkey of as much stray blood as he could manage. None of the pork though. Because apparently this vampire’s a halal vampire. Liam’s still trying not to spare too much thought on the ludicrousness of that.

But anyway, apparently shored up enough to not wantonly attack Liam or his dogs anymore, he’d started making himself right at home. Laid right out on Liam’s couch and flicked on the telly, channel-surfing like he lived there.

“Um…you’re good now, right? So, can you maybe…go?” Liam had said, standing warily at the edge of the living room.

“But it’s so warm in here,” Zayn had protested with a little pout that shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was.

“Right, but…you don’t live here.”

At that Zayn looked so dejected, big eyes going sad and despondent, somehow managing to make _Liam_ feel guilty even though it was _his_ house that was being intruded on.

“Alright, look. If I go out and get you some… _stuff_ …will you agree to go then? After you’ve…um…eaten?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Liam breathed a sigh of relief, nodded. “Okay good. Great.” Then grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “Don’t eat my dogs, please. I’ll be back in an hour.”

*

After a quick stop at the butcher in the local supermarket’s meat section and a long drive up and down the nearest highways Liam’s pulling back into his drive with a van full of raw meat and roadkill—laid on the same sheet of insulation Zayn had been using a blanket to protect his van from developing a permanent stench or a bunch of blood stains he can’t explain away. The roadkill’s mostly badgers, a few birds, some squirrels and a fox he’d found not too far into the woods and he dumps it all on the kitchen floor along with the packaged up meat, insulation sheet and all, so there’s not a giant mess on his kitchen floor to clean up after.

“Go to town,” he says to Zayn, who’d already been basically salivating again the moment Liam walked in the door and barely even lets Liam finish getting the invitation out before he’s dropping to his knees and attacking the first thing in sight.

There’s all kinds of gross slurping sounds coming from the kitchen, but Liam just turns the volume up on the telly and goes to take a long shower to wash the stench of dead animal from his skin.

By the time he comes back down the kitchen is spotless and smells faintly of bleach, all traces of blood or remnants of dead animals completely gone, apparently bagged and sitting out by the bins. Loki and Watson are in the kitchen at their bowls, chomping on what looks like cut up bits of the raw beef from the butcher’s mixed into their usual dog food and Zayn is curled up on the couch again, flicking idly from station to station, looking clean and pristine as can be. Or as pristine as one can look in tattered street clothes anyway. But there’s no splatters of blood or bits of roadkill anywhere on him which is pretty impressive considering the mess of sounds Liam heard echoing out from the kitchen earlier.

He looks surprisingly healthy now. All traces of his previous pallor are gone, and instead of looking washed out and sickly, his skin is now a beautiful golden-brown and there’s almost a glow about him, a radiance that makes Liam wanna stop and stare and never stop looking at him. Though he’s not sure how much of that is possibly a vampire thing and how much of it is just a Zayn thing. Cause by god, if Liam thought he looked good _before_? That’s _nothing_ compared to how he looks now when he’s healthy. Or. Maybe healthy’s not quite the right word considering that you can’t really be healthy when you’re technically dead but. Whatever. Semantics.

Liam would never admit that a part of him is a little happy Zayn’s still here, but nice as it secretly is he’s still kind of surprised that he hasn’t left yet considering their deal.

“You’re still here,” Liam says as he rounds the bottom of the stairs, trying to sound as disappointed as possible and keep any hint of enthusiasm out of his voice.

Zayn looks sheepishly down at the floor as Liam crosses the living room to sit on the other end of the couch. “Yeah, I, um…I figured you probably had questions and after everything you did for me I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging so…” he trails off, shrugging.

“Right.” Liam nods. “So…vampires are real, huh?”

Zayn nods, a long awkward silence ensuing.

Liam really has no idea what to say here. Sure he has questions but…where does he even start? Zayn’s beginning to look extremely uncomfortable though as he scratches at the back of his neck and glances around the room aimlessly and so finally Liam just blurts. “So…what’s it’s like being dead?”

Zayn perks up a bit at this. “Well…contrary to popular belief we’re not actually dead. It’s more like a virus. A really shitty virus. I mean it has its perks. Like changing you on a cellular level, you know so you can be stronger, faster, heal quicker, live a little longer than the average human, etc. But the downside is essentially being reduced to an addict with an ever-constant gross hankering for blood and a slight aversion to sunlight and certain strong smells.”

“Wait, so…sunlight _doesn’t_ kill you?”

Zayn shakes his head. “More like just causes mild discomfort. And even then only if it’s really bright. We sure as hell don’t sparkle I can tell you that,” he adds with a smirk.

“What about, like, garlic and crosses and stakes through the heart and stuff?”

He shrugs. “Not big fans of garlic. S’one of those strong smells we tend to be averse to, but it doesn’t actually do anything to us outside of just being annoying. Neither do crosses since we’re not actually undead. Stakes through the heart will definitely do it, but those would kill pretty much anyone anyway so.”

“So…if it’s a virus how do you get it? Can you, like, sneeze on someone and accidentally turn them into a vampire?”

Zayn snickers at that, shakes his head again. “Definitely not. It’s not like a cold. S’bloodborne…kind of like AIDS. Except…you know…not an STD. Okay, never mind, bad example. Point is it pretty much has to be deliberate for you to get it. You’d have to first manage to get contaminated blood directly into your own bloodstream and then die with the contaminated blood still in your system, _and_ have a weakened enough immune system at the time of your death that your body doesn’t fight off the virus before it finishes the cellular regeneration process and restarts your heart. So while I suppose you _could_ get it by accident, hypothetically, it’d still be pretty hard. Even if you were to get infected, as long as you didn’t die your body would just fight it off like any other virus. Probably feel like you have the worst flu of your life and you might have a weird sudden craving for red meat and game, but other than it’d just run it course like any normal illness.”

“How’d _you_ get it?”

“Car accident. Nurse turned me. I was dying anyway, was already in pretty bad shape when they brought me in. I got put in the ICU, and I don’t remember much after that but she must’ve took pity on me I guess cause the next thing I knew I was waking up a week later perfectly fine. She helped sneak me out of the hospital, explained as much as she could about vampires and transfusions, and then sent me on my way. I didn’t believe her till about a day later when the cravings started. I’d half convinced myself that I was just some medical miracle who happened to get helped out by a crazy nurse. Turned out I couldn’t be more wrong. But that was two years ago now and I’ve kind of accepted my fate since then.”

“What about _other_ people’s fates?”

“What?” Zayn looks strangely confused.

“You know…the whole…killing people?” Liam hedges, the last part coming out instinctively lower even though it’s not like there’s anyone around to overhear.

Zayn shakes his head emphatically. “Oh, no, I don’t drink from people. Only animals. I try to keep it contained to wild animals and strays—mostly squirrels and birds, the occasional stray cat and things of that sort, but…well…there’ve been a couple of…pet-related incidents I’m not so proud of. That’s why I pushed your dogs away before. I didn’t wanna do something I’d regret just cause I was half out of my head with hunger. It’s hard when the weather turns though…most everything either starts going south or goes into hibernation.”

“Well, what did you do last year?”

Zayn shrugs. “Starve and freeze mostly.” He looks down at the couch, picks a bit at the seam idly. “That’s why I was in your van. When I saw all the insulation and stuff inside I figured it’d be a nice place to keep warm. S’better than squatting in vacant for-sale flats with no heat. Plus I figured I’d have easy access to scavenge in your bins for leftovers when you were asleep.”

“I _knew_ someone was messing with my bins!” Liam says, and then when the rest of what Zayn’s said catches up to him. “Wait…you _eat_?”

“Yeah…I mean, I’m still alive so…I still technically need food, but…it’s like I said earlier about being like an addict. Food’s okay and I know I need it but…blood’s more important. I mean if I go too long without either I could still die but…if I have a choice I’m always gonna go for the blood even if the food is what I actually need more in the moment.”

“Is that why you passed out earlier, then? Cause you went too long without…”

“Blood, yeah.” Zayn nods. “Ironically it was because of food that you even caught me. I’d been…um…I was in your bins picking through your dinner leftovers for breakfast and wasn’t quite as quiet as I should’ve been coming back to the van, although in my defense I thought you were still asleep, but…yeah…” he trails off, looking sheepish and embarrassed as he avoids Liam’s eyes and Liam can’t help feeling a little for him.

Sure he technically broke the law and did a bad thing by breaking into Liam’s van and going through his rubbish. But he was just hungry and cold and desperate and desperation makes people do dumb things.

“How’d you end up on the street?” he blurts, and then immediately feels awful for it. Him and his stupid big mouth. “Sorry, I, um…you don’t have to answer that, that’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. You have questions and I promised you I’d answer them, I owe you that much. Um…after I got turned…well, things got kinda bad after that. Since I hadn’t exactly left the hospital legally I didn’t have any kind of proof of my accident, not even any bruises or scars thanks to the cellular regeneration, and my boss didn’t take too kindly to me not having shown up for a whole week of work without so much as a call so…I lost my job. And then I couldn’t afford my flat. And job hunting’s hard enough when you’re not living out of a backpack and trying to keep yourself from constantly mauling everyone in sight so finding another job in time before I got evicted was pretty much impossible and…things just kind of went from bad to worse from there.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, that’s really awful,” Liam says sadly.

Zayn shrugs. “S’alright, it’s not your fault. Shit happens, that’s life, you know? I’m not, like…asking for handouts or anything—and I know I don’t really deserve to even be asking this, but I was hoping with your permission if maybe I could…stay in your van a little longer? Just for a few days,” he adds in a jumbled rush, “just until I can find another place and then I’ll be out of your hair for good, I swear.”

“Oh, um…I mean…” Liam trails off, not even really sure what he was gonna say, what he _should_ say. He feels for Zayn sure, but…he’s a stranger. And a _vampire_ for Christ’s sake. Can he really let some strange man—some strange _vampire_ —stay in his work van for a few nights and trust that he’s not gonna just take off with it or even rob Liam blind the moment Liam leaves his house? And how does he know for sure that Zayn’s even telling the truth about only feeding off animals? For all he knows Zayn’s just playing him, toying with his food before he eats. Just playing on Liam’s emotions waiting for the opportune moment to strike and kill him.

At Liam’s continued silence Zayn bites at his lip and nods. “Right, um, never mind. Sorry, I–I shouldn’t have asked. You’ve been way too kind already and I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome. I’ll just, um…” He stands, gesturing toward the door and then walking brusquely towards it and Liam doesn’t know what possesses him to do it.

He watches Zayn cross the living room and then open the door and start to take a step outside and he _should_ just let him go. He _knows_ that. And maybe it’s guilt or pity or sympathy or attraction or a bit of all of the above, or something else altogether. But for some reason as he watches Zayn go through that door a small part of Liam is telling him that he can’t just let him go. That if he does he’ll regret it and instead he finds himself calling out, “ _Wait_ …” just before Zayn shuts the door behind himself.

Zayn turns to him with wide, hopeful eyes that after the briefest of moments go sad again. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna, like, sneak back here or anything, I promise. You and your dogs are safe. After tonight you don’t ever have to worry about seeing me again.”

He looks like he’s turning to leave again and Liam gets up from the couch and shakes his head. “No, no, I meant, um…stay.”

Zayn blinks. “Oh. Wait, r– _really_?”

“Uh…yeah…” Liam says and it comes out sounding a bit more unsure that he meant to make known to Zayn but it’s not like there’s anything he can do about it once it’s out so.

*

Hours later and Liam’s made up the sofa for Zayn and let him borrow some clothes to sleep in after letting Zayn use his shower.

“Thank you for this. _Really_ ,” Zayn says sincerely. “I mean, I know we kind of started off on like the worst foot possible and you didn’t have to do any of this, I definitely don’t deserve it but…I really, really appreciate it. Honestly.”

Liam just nods, not really sure what to say to such sincere gratitude. Just saying you’re welcome to all that feels like it would fall a bit short so he just flashes a small, close-lipped, nervous smile and steps back from tucking the last corners of the blankets into the couch, beckoning for Zayn to go ahead and get settled.

“Night,” he says as he heads back upstairs.

“Night,” Zayn calls back, something like a smile in his voice as he adds, “don’t let the vampires bite.” There’s a momentary pause as the comment just hangs between them in the darkness and then Zayn says, “Sorry, too soon. Ignore me. Um, sleep well.”

“Right. You too,” Liam says, trying to keep the slight discomfort and apprehension out of his voice as he climbs the last of the stairs and heads to his own bed.

*

In the morning Zayn is gone. Liam descends the stairs to find the sofa empty, blankets folded up neatly and stacked together to one side with the pillow on top.

And despite the fact that he has no real reason to considering he doesn’t even know Zayn, he can’t help feeling a little sad. He supposes some small part of him had hoped to learn more about him, get to know him. At least say goodbye to him before he left. Maybe even give him one last warm meal to savor. But he’s gone now and, like he’d said, Liam probably won’t ever see him again now. Maybe it’s for the best.

At least that’s what Liam tries to tell himself.

Well. That is, until he opens his van to load up supplies for the day and finds Zayn in the exact same spot as yesterday morning, only this time he’s still asleep.

Sat up against the opposite wall of the van with another sheet of insulation wrapped around him, his chin jerks up from his chest when he hears the van door slide open, nearly banging the back of his head against the wall in his haste, eyes going wide at the sight of Liam.

“Um…hi,” he says and Liam is struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu.

“Hi…” Liam says hesitantly. “I…I thought you’d left.”

“Sorry, I–I was supposed to have, but…I overslept.”

“You…did you _sleep_ in here?”

Zayn looks sheepish, glancing down at the floor of the van and scratching at the back of his neck. “I just—I felt weird…I mean…you were so nice but I just felt like I was imposing—which in retrospect this probably wasn’t the best solution since I’m technically _still_ kind of imposing on your property but…I don’t know, it felt better somehow than imposing on your actual house I guess? I never even meant to stay as long as I did, I mean, I told myself I was just gonna stay long enough to warm up and then that turned into staying till I fed and then staying till I answered your questions and then staying overnight and. Anyway, sorry, I’m going now, I swear. And I really promise this time you’ll never see me again.”

“What if I want to?” Liam blurts without really meaning to.

“What,” Zayn says, stopping in place, stooped in the doorway of the van, which he’d been in the midst of hopping out of.

They’re quite close now, only about a foot of space between them and Liam sort of freezes for a moment at the realization before rational thought kicks in again and he takes a step back, swallows. “I–I mean, um…maybe…maybe it’d be okay for you to stay a little longer. You know, just until you find someplace better. A shelter or something.”

Only after he’s said it does he realize how incredibly stupid he sounds. A shelter’s no place for a vampire. That’s probably precisely why he’s not in one now.

Zayn doesn’t call him out on it though, just stares, wide-eyed and bewildered. “Um…are–are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Liam says before he’s even really given himself any actual time to think it through.

What is he even doing? What Liam is this? Has an alternate Liam somehow taken over his body? He doesn’t _do_ reckless or impulsive. He’s the literal opposite of reckless and impulsive. Well, most of the time. With the exception of when he’s had a few too many. But still. He’s obviously not drunk _now_ and yet here he is making split decisions about letting a complete stranger—a _vampire_ stranger—stay in his home indefinitely.

But he looks at Zayn’s eyes and he can’t imagine just booting him out now, watching him walk into the distance in his tattered clothes, cold and hungry and alone without a single possession to his name, never to be seen again.

It may be crazy but somehow it feels like the only right thing to do.

“Yeah,” he repeats, more resolute, more sure of himself this time, nodding confidently.

He leads Zayn inside and he doesn’t have time to whip him up a warm breakfast like he’d like to in the moment but he shows him where the cereal and toast and tea supplies are, makes Zayn swear on his life not to eat his dogs while he’s gone, and then he’s taking off for the gig he’s already running late to. Leaving a strange vampire alone in his house. All day. He tries not to dwell too much on it.

*

_Three weeks later_

Zayn’s taken surprisingly nicely to Loki and Watson, who in the short time that he’s been living with them have both come to adore him. Probably mostly because he gives them belly rubs and food—whatever scraps he doesn’t eat when he feeds.

Liam’s not sure whether he should really be condoning it considering this is all still technically temporary and once Zayn leaves Liam will be the one who has to deal with the fallout of weaning the dogs back off roadkill and butcher scraps with their dry food and getting them back to eating it plain. But for now it makes them happy and they’re adorable, if a bit annoying, when they’re happy so he lets it be.

“You’re really good with them, you know,” Liam says when Zayn comes back in from playing fetch in the backyard with both dogs trailing him, tails and tongues wagging happily. Liam’s just come home from another gig and had been watching them through the patio doors, unable to keep himself from smiling fondly at the sight until Zayn comes in and Liam catches himself.

“Thanks,” Zayn says a bit bashfully. “Messing about with them…makes me miss my own dogs a bit less I guess.”

“Oh. You had dogs?”

Zayn shrugs. “Yeah, um…before…before I was turned.”

Liam’s hesitant to ask for fear of the answer but he’s too curious to stop himself now. “What, um…what happened to them?” he says warily.

Zayn huffs a laugh, smiling and shaking his head. “I didn’t, like, eat them if that’s what you’re thinking.” The smile fades and he shrugs. “I just…had to give them up once I lost the flat. Not just them, all of my pets. I had quite a bit—a couple of lizards, a cat, three dogs—but…can’t exactly take care of a bunch of animals while living on the street so…I had to put them all in shelters.”

“Oh, wow, I’m really sorry,” Liam says sincerely.

Zayn shrugs again, looking a little wistful. “It’s okay, I’ve made my peace with it. I just hope they all found good homes.”

Zayn leads the dogs into the kitchen then, cooing at them as he doles out their food, chopping up and tossing bits of raw beef into their bowls once he’s drained all the blood into a cup for himself.

“So…listen, um…” Liam starts, “I’ve got this, um…this…Construction Contractors’ Conference thing coming up and…I’ll be gone for a couple of days. D’you think you’ll be…you know…alright here by yourself?”

“Construction Contractors’ Conference, that’s quite a mouthful,” Zayn says with a smile. “But yeah, I should be good. I mean, we’re still pretty stocked up on red meat and stuff so between that and whatever leftovers and microwavable meals we’ve got I should be good.”

“Uh, well…that’s the thing, I’m…I’m kind of like the designated, uh…food person? And…uh…the guys they’re pretty big meat-eaters…they, um, like to, you know…um…make it a tradition of barbequing and that so…I–I’ll probably be taking most of the meat with me so…” Liam trails off, hoping he doesn’t look as anxious as he feels stumbling over his words like a blubbering idiot. He’s worried Zayn will see right through him, start questioning him, or even worse outright call him out on his flimsy excuses and rather pathetic and half-arsed attempts at trying to come up with a plausible explanation that was so clearly just thought up on the spot.

“Oh.” Zayn just blinks, then looks as if he’s thinking. “Well, um…maybe—if it’s okay with you—maybe before you leave we could take a quick trip down the highway so I can see what I can find to stock-up for the weekend?”

“Uh, sure, yeah.” Liam nods jerkily, pent up tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding bleeding out of his shoulders in relief.

“Great, thanks,” Zayn says brightly and, conflict seemingly resolved, goes right back to chopping up scraps for the dogs.

*

As promised, just before Liam leaves he and Zayn take a trip up and down the nearest highway, picking up any and all roadkill they can find that’s small enough to fit in the freezer. There’s not a lot with the weather getting colder and colder but they manage to find a couple of birds, a rabbit, and a stray cat—at least Liam’s hoping it’s a stray seeing as it doesn’t look to have a collar—and it may not be much but it’s enough to get Zayn through the weekend till Liam gets back at least so that’s something. Liam can’t help how antsy he is the whole journey though, tries his best to hide it, but of course Zayn notices.

“Nervous about your trip?” he says, nodding down at Liam’s free hand—the one not on the steering wheel—tapping anxiously against his own thigh.

“Uh…sort of,” Liam says, forcing his hand to lie still again.

“Been a while since you’ve been to one of these conference things then?”

“Not, um, not really. They’re sort of a…a monthly thing actually so I’ll pretty much be gone every month around this time.”

“Oh. Well, that’s kinda cool, almost like a club I guess, yeah? With monthly meetings and all?”

“Not really,” Liam says and he hadn’t meant it to come off sounding as terse as it does but he’s not really up for answering a bunch of questions about this right now. All he really cares about at the moment is getting Zayn and his shit settled so he can get back on the road.

Sensing his obvious irritation Zayn thankfully drops the subject and the rest of the ride is spent in relative silence.

Back home Liam helps Zayn dump his spoils into a bin bag and stuff it in the freezer, pulling out all the stocks of meat to put into a cooler for himself. Afterwards he takes a quick shower and then throws a couple changes of clothes and his phone charger in a bag, grabs the cooler and heads out, a little thankful that for once he doesn’t have to worry about hiring a dog-sitter or taking the dogs to stay with someone for the weekend. They chase after him of course, whining at the door like they always do when he leaves for these trips but Zayn holds them back, waving to Liam as he pulls out of the drive and then he’s taking off, the three of them fading out of view in his rearview mirror.

*

“Well, you certainly look refreshed,” Zayn says the moment Liam gets back. He’s in the kitchen making preparations for dinner and Liam smiles and joins him, in a much better mood than he was when he left, and not minding in the least when the dogs rush and hound him on his way over.

“Thanks. And sorry by the way, about how I was before. I always get kinda…tense just before it’s time to leave for, um…those things. I probably should’ve warned you but I’ve gotten so used to living alone I just didn’t think about it I guess.”

“S’alright, you had a lot going on between worrying about me and my stuff and getting ready for the trip and that.”

Liam nods, taps his fingers idly against the counter. “So, what are we making?”

“Vegetable curry,” Zayn says, pushing a pile of vegetables and a knife to the empty side of the cutting board for Liam to join him with a smile and a shrug. “Wasn’t much left to make with no meat so.”

“Right, sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem. I just hope the barbeque was good,” he replies, flashing Liam a playful grin.

“Um…yeah.” Liam nods, scratching at the back of neck nervously, turning his gaze sharply away from Zayn and down to the vegetables that he’s to help cut.

He chops dutifully alongside Zayn in a comfortable silence while the dogs pace around them for scraps that they’ll most likely just spit out anyway, but it’s nice. Feels somehow homely. The smell of lightly bubbling curry and spices wafts over from the stove and the dogs nudge at their feet, the last rays of sunlight wafting in through the windows.

It’s such a peaceful, serene scene to come back to after the weekend he’s had and he finds himself smiling a little dopily as he chops. Sneaks a glance at Zayn. And then a second. And a third. And somewhere along the way gets a little lost in the way Zayn’s long eyelashes fan over those sharp cheekbones, gaze drifting down to his inked arms and hands, how the dark lines and shapes contrast over golden skin, and the effortless way his long nimble fingers move. Most of the time he tries not to think about it, how beautiful Zayn is, but in quiet moments like this, and especially with Zayn so close and Liam coming off his weekend high, it’s hard not to. Hard to remind himself of all the reasons why this train of thought is a bad idea, why he’s not supposed to let himself cross that invisible line in his head. Zayn is his houseguest, that’s it. Thinking of him of as anything more—even just entertaining the idea—only complicates things. But the way he sweeps his artfully disheveled chin-length hair out of his face and darts his tongue out to lick at his lips is so distracting. Even the freaking glint of his nose ring is distracting and that only brings Liam’s attention back to his face, to those mile long lashes and pouty pink lips, that perfectly chiseled jaw with the light stubble, and then down to the dark ink against the delicate skin of his neck and then back up all over again.

He’s not sure when exactly he stopped chopping but suddenly he’s aware of how quiet it’s gone and he looks up to find Zayn has stopped chopping too. He’s looking at Liam with dark, but nervous eyes and Liam realizes abruptly how incredibly close they are. Zayn’s shoulder brushes against his as Zayn shifts anxiously and there’s barely more than a hand’s length of space between their faces now. Zayn’s lips are _right_ _there_. All he’d have to do is tip forward just a little and…

He’s honestly not sure which one of them leans in first, or whether they both moved in at the same time and just met in the middle but it doesn’t much matter because either way the next thing he knows Zayn’s lips are on his, warm and soft. It’s barely anything really, just a press of lips, and nothing more than that because Liam pulls back in a rush a second later, moving away almost as quickly as he leaned in, eyes wide as the moment catches up to him, stuttering out, “Shit, I’m–I’m sorry, I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to, um, to…”

He trails off, sort of losing his train of thought as he realizes Zayn’s still staring at his mouth. Zayn’s got his own bottom lip between his teeth now and it’s…really, really, _very_ distracting. Liam’s wants to replace them with his own teeth which is kind of a weird thought to have but his brain’s not exactly in a sane place right now. This was a very bad idea. Letting himself get so close to Zayn right after the weekend. He’s too revved up on his own freaking hormones. He should’ve known better. He _does_ know better. Half his brain—the rational side—is screaming _bad bad bad abort abort_. But right now the other half of him can’t seem to remember exactly _why_ this is bad or why he should even stop at all, especially when Zayn’s looking at him with those dark, sultry eyes, and those _lips_ , even plumper and redder now from all the biting. Liam swallows and then before he’s even really aware of what he’s doing he’s surging forward again.

He’s practically all teeth and tongue as he ravages Zayn’s mouth but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind, gives just as much as he gets and there’s hands fisted in clothes and hair and Liam’s not really sure anymore where either of them begins and the other ends, but he doesn’t much care in the moment. All that really matters right now is the feeling of Zayn’s lips against his again, his body warm and solid against his own. They cling to each other in a frenzied mess, wound up and driven on by weeks of pent up sexual tension, pressing up so tight against each other it’s like they’re both trying to crawl inside each other. And they don’t part until they’ve both stumbled over to the couch and landed atop it in a pile of roaming limbs, only separating briefly to tug off clothes between them. Everything feels like it’s moving in hyperspeed but Liam’s still riding the high of the weekend and doesn’t really care in the moment about slowing anything down. Just rides Zayn until they’re both seeing stars and then lets Zayn fuck him into the sofa until they’re a sweaty, giggling, exhausted, come-covered mess.

“God, that was amazing,” Liam says on a laugh between ragged breaths, sending a silent prayer of thanks out to his mate Harry for convincing him to keep condoms and a packet of lube handy in his wallet all at times.

“Seconded,” Zayn says still trying to catch his own breath.

“Why the hell did that take us so damn long?”

Zayn laughs, pressing his sweaty forehead down into Liam’s shoulder. “Partly because I was half-convinced you were straight up until about 30 minutes ago. And also partly cause I didn’t wanna feel like I was whoring myself out for a spot on your couch.”

Liam snorts. “Little late for that now cause I’m fully expecting for this to be a regular thing from this point on.”

“Well, if it’s that amazing every time I will gladly whore myself out for room and board.”

They don’t get as much time to relax as they’d like cause minutes later the curry sauce starts to boil over and they’re both dashing into the kitchen stark-naked to salvage what they can of it and finish chopping and cooking the rest of the vegetables. But in the end it all turns out fine and they get to relax together in their underwear on the sofa anyway, bowls of veggie curry in hand as they laugh at Joey’s antics in a random late-night rerun of Friends.

*

Zayn’s started sleeping in Liam’s bed and it’s probably crossing another line all things considered—veering a bit too far into actual whoring-out-for-room-and-board territory—but it didn’t make much sense to keep Zayn relegated to the sofa when they’ve been sleeping together pretty much on the regular now anyway. Liam’s still not quite sure what they are. They haven’t exactly talked about it. He supposes if he had to put a label on it it’s kind of like a friends with benefits situation. Or maybe housemates with benefits would be more accurate? Lodger-and-landlord with benefits? He doesn’t know. The whole thing is honestly kind of messy and about a hundred different kinds of messed up when he thinks about it too hard which is why he’s largely avoided thinking about it or even bringing the question up and suspects the same is probably true for Zayn. He sometimes feels a bit like they’re both taking advantage each other. Worries Zayn’s just using him for a warm place to sleep and he’s just using Zayn for a warm body to sleep _with_. And he’s afraid if he brings it up it’ll all fall apart and Zayn will leave and he really doesn’t want Zayn to leave. Which is exactly why he keeps telling himself they should stop all this. Go back to just the housemates part without the benefits, go back to the way things were before it all got so messy and complicated. Or at least talk about it. But he can’t seem to work up the nerve to make himself bring it up because every time he wakes to Zayn soft and sleepy curled against him he’s reminded of all the reasons why he doesn’t want this to end. Doesn’t wanna be the one to ruin whatever this delicate balance is that they have.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning when he wakes up to Zayn curled up in the duvet beside him, barely visible but for the top of his head and a tuft of messy dark hair. He’d stolen most of the covers sometime in the middle of the night and wrapped himself up like a burrito and so Liam wakes up freezing with nothing but the thin sheets and barely a corner of the duvet for cover but one look at Zayn all scrunched up and adorable beside him and he can’t even find it within himself to be all that upset about it. The sun’s barely up and he’s got nowhere to go so he wrestles a bit more cover back from Zayn’s sleeping form, curls into him for a little more warmth, and falls right back to sleep.

When he wakes again it’s late morning, sunlight streaming over the bed, Zayn’s warm back pressed against his shoulder. Zayn’s unfurled himself from his blanket burrito so the duvet’s spread equally over them now, nothing separating them, just warm bare skin pressed to his own and it would be the perfect way to wake up were it not the fact that his feet are now trapped under 80 pounds of dog.

He groans and ineffectually tries to kick at Watson to get him off, but with his feet trapped as they are it’s mostly just futile squirming until Liam sits up and physically pushes at him till the dumb lug gets the hint and hops back down the floor to curl up with Loki. Liam flops back down to the mattress with a huff, kicking the blanket off himself to air out his now stiflingly hot, sweaty legs.

He gives himself a few minutes to just relax and enjoy the peaceful morning before he gets up to go make breakfast. Once downstairs, he bumps around the kitchen with the pots and pans trying not to make too much noise, dutifully ignoring Loki and Watson as they sniff around his feet begging for scraps.

“ _No_ , you darn spoiled brats,” he mutters when Loki starts up whining after it’s been twenty minutes and Liam still hasn’t given them anything. They’ve gotten way too used to Zayn spoiling them rotten. “Get _out_ of here, ya gits! Go eat your own damn food.” He kicks at them until they scramble away to their own bowls, picking at their food and looking back at him every few minutes like they’re still waiting for him to throw them some scraps to eat with it, pitiful expressions on their faces like he’s starving them.

Liam just shakes his head and keeps cooking. He and Zayn are gonna have to have a talk about their food privileges.

Later he crawls back over the bed and noses into Zayn’s neck, presses a feather-soft kiss to his bare shoulder, aware this is all probably also crossing all kinds of even more lines he shouldn’t be crossing but not really caring in the moment. “Are you awake?” he says softly.

“No,” Zayn mumbles groggily, voice thick with sleep, eyebrows scrunching together adorably as he tries to bat Liam away and curl himself deeper into the covers.

“I made eggs and turkey bacon. And waffles too,” Liam murmurs into his skin.

Zayn shuffles around onto his back and squints up at Liam. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” Liam nods, can’t help smiling at Zayn’s pouty just-woke-up face as he drops his chin down to rest against Zayn’s chest.

“For _me_?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Zayn smiles bashfully but sits up, rubbing at his eyes, yawning, and stretching before finally getting up to follow Liam to the kitchen. Predictably he feeds Loki and Watson bits of his food. Liam just rolls his eyes.

Later Liam goes out for an afternoon run, leaving Zayn lounging on the couch watching telly with the dogs and all in all it’s a good day. The weather’s finally fully turned now and it’s proper cold but still sunny out, the kind of bright and sunny that makes the cold feel almost comfortable with the warmth of it, and the crisp cool air feels nice on his flushed skin, refreshing as he breathes it deep into his lungs. He feels so loose and relaxed by the time he’s on his way back to the house, like this day has been so perfect that absolutely nothing could ruin it and he almost can’t wait to curl up with Zayn and the dogs on the sofa.

Which a small part of his brain is still screaming is a ridiculous thought to have because he shouldn’t _be_ this comfortable with someone who’s only supposed to be a temporary houseguest. It’s not like they’re married or even dating. They kiss, they sleep together, they live together, but they’re not dating. They might spend almost every night cooking and vegging out on the couch together, but they’ve never actually _gone out_ together. They’ve never talked about what this is. And anyway he’s only known Zayn a couple months for Christ’s sake. Even if they _were_ dating having thoughts like this, imagining them as if they were already settling down, would be moving monumentally fast and that’s not even getting into the fact that, for Zayn, Liam‘s place is really just a temporary stop-gap until he finds something more permanent. The last thing Liam should be doing is getting attached, especially because he doesn’t even really _do_ serious relationships even on a normal basis because of reasons.

They’re not dating and they barely know each other and none of this is even anything more than temporary.

But yet Liam’s heart still warms when he thinks about the scene that’ll probably be awaiting him when he gets back. Thinks about spending the rest of the day cuddled together in ratty clothes watching old Friends re-runs with a lapful each of too-heavy dog. Thinks about coming home from work to the sounds of laughter and excited barking in the backyard as Zayn romps around with Loki and Watson or to the smell of rich spices wafting from the kitchen and an adorable harried Zayn bouncing from pot to pan but still finding the time to smile brightly at Liam and ask him about his day. Thinks about the incredibly endearing expression on Zayn’s face this morning—somehow simultaneously bashful, astonished, and grateful all at the time—when he’d seen all the food Liam had prepared for him for breakfast. How cute he had looked in his sleep-wrinkled clothes, hair mussed, and eyes still a little droopier than usual like he was still trying to fully wake up and how Liam thinks he wouldn’t mind waking up to that everyday.

And he knows he shouldn’t be thinking it. Shouldn’t be letting himself get attached or start thinking about a future that he’s never going to have but he can’t help it. He barely knows the other man and yet it still feels so _easy_ to imagine having all that with Zayn. Too easy.

But because today is such a perfect day that can’t be ruined he lets himself indulge, just for a few moments, lets his mind run wild with all the possibilities of what he could have, if things were different.

When he comes back his bedroom is an utter mess and in the middle of it is Zayn, splayed out across the carpet with half of Liam’s comic book stash spread out haphazardly around him.

He winces when he sees Liam standing in the doorway, sees the expression on Liam’s face. Liam’s not…angry per se but. This feels like a serious violation of his personal space and belongings. Sure they live together and Zayn sleeps in his bed and uses his soap and shampoo and wears his clothes but they’ve never talked about Zayn having permission to go through his personal things. He’d figured that was just sort of an unspoken rule that he didn’t really need to make explicit because up until now it hadn’t been a problem—Zayn _seemed_ to get the gist to stay clear of his more personal belongings—but evidently that was a mistake.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zayn says hurriedly, sitting up in a frenzied rush but ducking his head to avoid Liam’s gaze as he tries to gather all the comics into some semblance of a stack as quickly as he can. They’re all out of order now, a few pages of some of them bent from being shoved and tossed around so carelessly and Liam clenches his fist and presses his lips together, takes a deep calming breath and tries to remind himself that this is partly his fault for crossing so many lines, not setting clear boundaries between them or set rules for…whatever this is they’re doing.

“It’s fine,” he says, trying to for calm nonchalance but ending up still sounding a bit terse as he joins Zayn on the floor, taking the messy stack and dutifully re-ordering them the way he likes, trying his best to gently smooth out the bent pages.

“I can explain,” Zayn says softly, watching him with remorseful eyes. “I—I didn’t mean to go snooping or anything, it’s just…I saw them one day while you were out at work. I was just cleaning like I usually do when you’re working, you know?” Liam does. It’s another part of their arrangement that they haven’t really spoken about but Zayn’s taken to doing whatever house chores need doing to fill the time while Liam’s gone and he supposes that’s probably another way he’s taking advantage of Zayn. Using him as free labor like a live-in maid (slash-personal-cook-slash-dogsitter-slash-warm-dildo), but he’s a little too preoccupied with how he’s feeling in the moment to dwell on all the guilt-inducing feelings the reminder of those thoughts bring. “And I saw them,” Zayn continues hurriedly, “and I know I should’ve just left them but it’s just…I had to give most of mine away when I got evicted and…even the few I tried to keep eventually got lost with a bunch of my other stuff when some arseholes stole my backpack and…I don’t know, seeing yours just made me think of better days I guess, back to when my life wasn’t a complete mess and I wasn’t a walking, talking disaster. Well, not as much anyway. And I thought it couldn’t hurt to look at just one, you know, but then one turned into two and two turned into five and the next thing I knew I was sneaking into them every time you went out and I know none of that makes up for the fact that I was digging around in your stuff without your permission but I just wanted you to know it wasn’t intentional. I wasn’t just snooping for the sake of snooping, it just kind of…happened and then I guess I couldn’t stop.”

Liam sighs, rolling his knees out from under him and sitting down properly.

“It’s okay,” Liam says and this time he really means it. Sometimes he gets so caught up in his own emotions he forgets just how much Zayn’s lost. How hard this all must have been—must _still_ be—for him. He lost _everything_. And now he’s living here in a virtual stranger’s house, taking care of Liam’s dogs and cooking and cleaning for him, trying to parse out the unspoken rules Liam never made clear. And the one thing he finds that’s familiar and that makes him happy, he feels like he has to hide from Liam for fear of getting caught out because he’s too afraid to ask because Liam hasn’t made it clear what’s okay and what’s not. “It’s okay,” Liam repeats. “It’s partly my fault. I’ve been so focused on how all this has affected me that I didn’t even think about how confusing this must all be for you, not knowing what’s allowed and what isn’t and feeling like you can’t ask or that you have to hide things and do stuff in secret. If they make you happy then it’s okay if you keep reading them, just…um…if you could just keep them in order and try to be a little gentler with them? And if there’s anything else you wanna borrow it’s okay to ask, I don’t want you to feel like you have to sneak around.”

Zayn nods emphatically, taking the stack back from Liam gingerly when Liam hands it to him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll be very careful with them, promise. And I’m really sorry again for going through your stuff.”

“S’alright. Forgiven and forgotten.”

Liam waves him off as he gets up to head to the shower. So much for a perfect day where nothing could go wrong. Although at least he finally managed to man up and set _some_ clear ground rules.

Now if only he could work up the nerve to actually talk about this _thing_ between them…

*

It’s a Thursday afternoon when Niall pops by out of the blue.

The doorbell rings and Zayn goes to answer it cause Liam’s in the middle of feeding the dogs their dinner. He figures it’s probably just someone trying to sell something anyway and he’d rather just let Zayn be the one to tell them to bugger off, but he snaps up when he hears a familiar voice on the other side, that familiar Irish brogue that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Um…hello. You’re not Liam. Liam _does_ still live here, yeah?”

Zayn nods politely. “He does. Who’s asking?”

“His mate, Niall. And you are?”

Zayn perks up at this news, seemingly excited to be meeting a friend of Liam’s, sticks out a hand and smiles brightly. “Zayn, Liam’s live-in booty call.”

Liam blanches, rushing over to the door stiffly.

“Um, Niall, hey,” he says, ushering Niall inside quickly, hoping the previous topic of conversation goes forgotten. “I didn’t know you were in town, when’d you get in?”

“Just a couple hours ago. Only here for the weekend really, but I came straight here cause I had to see my Payno of course. How’ve you been, mate? Pretty well I’m assuming,” he says with a grin, dropping his bags just inside the door and turning back to size Zayn up appreciatively.

“Uh, yeah, you know, same old, same old mostly. Work’s been good and the dogs are okay, can’t complain. Zayn is—” he stops, not quite sure how exactly to describe _what_ Zayn is and opting instead to just skirt around it. “Zayn’s been a great help. He’s just, um, he’s staying here temporarily until he can get back on his feet.”

“Oh…okay.” Niall nods but he still looks a little confused, though he doesn’t inquire any further, maybe sensing somehow that it’s not something Liam’s really eager to talk about right now in front of present company.

Zayn smiles at Niall politely, offering to take his coat and Niall shrugs out of it obediently, kicking off his shoes in the process.

Niall follows Liam into the kitchen as Zayn goes to put up his coat and bag and when they’re a safe distance away Niall leans into him and says, “So, what exactly is going on here? Is this, like, a roommate situation? You short on cash or something and renting out your couch? Or are you two dating and you decided to jump the gun and let him move in early or…? Cause, I mean, I know I miss a lot sometimes when I’m gone especially when I have no cell service but when I last FaceTime’d you a couple months ago you said you still weren’t seeing anyone and now you’ve apparently got a live-in boyfriend? What’s the story there?”

Liam shrugs, avoiding Niall’s eyes. “None of the above but also sort of…all of the above?” Liam sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s complicated, okay? But he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just…”

“Sleeping together while you let him stay in your house till he gets back on his feet?”

Liam looks at him miserably but Niall raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I’m not judging. If it works, it works. As long as you’re happy, you know? That’s all that matters to me. And I mean, he’s well fit so, y’know, good job there.” He smirks. And then a thought seems to occur him and leans in a bit closer, lowers his voice even more, serious now. “Does he know about your…you know?” he asks.

“ _No_ ,” Liam says emphatically. “And I plan to keep it that way.”

Niall nods solemnly in understanding, dropping the subject and Liam’s grateful.

Niall’s the only “normal” mate he’s got who knows about his secret and has still stuck around. But he travels a lot, always backpacking through Europe or spelunking in Asia or hitchhiking across the Americas (yes, Americas as in plural, as in hitchhiking his way from Canada all the way down to Argentina) so Liam usually only really sees him about twice out of the year most years—for the holidays and whenever else he happens to be in town and decide to pop by Liam’s out of the blue like he’s just done. They’ve been friends pretty much since they wound up roomed together at uni, where Niall, the only actual geography major Liam had ever met, would stay up late talking Liam’s ear off about all the places he wanted to travel to (not that Liam minded cause Niall’s a great storyteller and Liam actually learned a lot from him over those years about all sorts of different places). When Niall discovered travel blogging and found out there was a way he could actually get paid to travel he jumped at the opportunity and has been pretty much steadily country-hopping ever since they graduated. They talk on the phone as often as they can when Niall’s got service or access to decent working wi-fi and Liam’s got a whole drawer full of postcards Niall’s sent him over the years. But even though they don’t see each other as often as Liam would like Niall’s still one of his best mates and apparently still knows him too well.

He stays for dinner and after a bit the slight awkwardness hanging in the air seems to dissipate and the three of them are eating and talking like they’ve all known each other for years instead of just him and Niall. Niall regales them with stories of his latest travels; an incident with goats stealing and apparently trying to eat his luggage in Papua New Guinea, the triumphs of winning over and befriending the meanest donkey in all of Greece, how he was unofficially adopted by one of the elders in a bamboo-weaving village called Ngũ Xã and now has a Vietnamese grandmother.

Liam laughs so much his cheeks are sore by the end of the night, as are his abs, but such is the usual with Niall. As is also the usual with Niall though is the inevitable goodbye and Liam’s already dreading it before it comes but he’s still glad to have had this surprise visit at all even if it was a bit awkward at first. As he hugs Liam goodbye Niall promises he’ll be coming home more often from here on out though and that’s enough to warm Liam’s spirits for now despite his too-sudden departure as Niall sees himself out with a wave and bright grin, rucksack slung over his shoulder. And then Liam is alone with Zayn again. Alone with his own uncertainties and feelings and his messy thoughts.

*

“So what do you guys actually do at these conferences?” Zayn asks in the van on their way back from another highway roadkill stock-up just before Liam’s due to leave again. “Do you just, like, sit around eating barbeque, crushing beer cans against your heads, arm wrestling and organizing pissing contests whilst talking about construction stuff?”

Liam snorts, flashing an amused grin at Zayn. “Is that what you imagine we do? Like a giant frat party or something?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, it certainly sounds kinda like one. I mean you meet every month at some super secret location that—considering you have such shoddy service the whole weekend has gotta be, like, way out in the wilderness somewhere—just to eat a bunch of meat and drink beer with a bunch of other guys for three days. Sounds a hell of a lot like something a bunch of frat boys would do to me.”

“Bit unfair of you to assume that everyone who’d go to a construction conference is a guy, and a butch one at that,” Liam says deftly trying to change the subject.

“Touché. In retrospect, I guess that _was_ an unfairly stereotypical judgment to make,” Zayn concedes with a nod. “But seriously though, what do you guys actually do besides grilling meat cause I’m having a hard time imaging what riveting events you could possibly get up to at a construction conference that would make everyone wanna come back as frequently as every month. D’you lot, like, exchange insider secrets on the performance of the construction trade in the stock market? Make elaborate bets on who’s gonna sell the most piping this year? Build a giant secret fortress in the woods? I mean, like, _what_ is it?”

“Christ, look, it’s just a gathering of a bunch of like-minded people where we can just get together and blow off a bit of steam for a few days, okay?” he snaps, tone a bit too terse, a bit too defensive, although it’s not entirely a lie. Not really. But anyway he hadn’t even meant to snap, it’s just Zayn’s asking too many questions and it’s both not the time nor is Liam in the right mood or headspace to deal with being given the third-degree right now, even if it is half-jokingly. He’s wound up and on edge and he just really, really wants to get on the road already and be far away from here and away from Zayn and all his questions. “It’s not that big a deal, alright, so can we just drop it?”

Zayn raises his hands in defense. “Okay, okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I know you tend to get kinda testy and stressed out before these things, I didn’t mean to upset you, I shouldn’t have pushed.” Zayn’s quiet for a little while before he says softly, tentatively, like he’s afraid of setting Liam off again, “But maybe—I mean, I don’t know if you’re allowed to bring, like, a plus one to these things, but maybe…if you are…maybe one time I could come along with you—I mean, only if you want of course—but it’d just be nice to meet some of your mates, you know? I mean it’s been three months and I haven’t met any of them yet except for Niall, although, like, if you don’t want me to that’s cool too, I totally understand, but I just thought it’d be nice to, like, hang out, you know, like outside of the house.”

Fuck. There Liam goes again not thinking about anyone but himself. He hadn’t even considered that Zayn might feel like Liam’s hiding him. Like he’s a secret to be ashamed of. He wishes he could tell Zayn that that’s not why he hasn’t met any of Liam’s friends. That it has nothing to do with Zayn himself or their current living arrangements or Liam being ashamed of him and wanting to hide him away or keep him a secret.

But he can’t tell Zayn any of that without inviting more questions that he won’t be able to answer so instead he just mutters a noncommittal, “Maybe,” and leaves it at that, knowing full well it’s an empty half-promise because Zayn knowing anything about what actually goes on at these weekend gatherings would be a monumentally bad, _bad_ idea.

*

Predictably he finds out anyway.

*

“What the he— _Liam_?” There’s a gentle touch at his shoulder. “Liam…Liam?”

Liam blinks gritty eyes open to bright sunlight streaming down on him, Zayn’s blurry face slowly coming into focus above him, sunlight bracketing his head like a halo. There’s a soreness that penetrates every muscle in his body, every fiber of his being, sunk down into his bones, his very cells, pumps through his blood like a visceral thing, but none of that’s new. This isn’t where he’s supposed to be though. The previous day is a blur and as usual he’s groggy as all hell but he’s aware enough to know immediately that this is not where he usually wakes up. Not where he’s _supposed_ to be waking up. The grass, the trees, they’re too familiar. As is the face still currently looming above him.

“Zayn?” Liam croaks hoarsely in confusion, trying to sit up, to re-acclimate himself to this body.

“Are—are you… _okay_?” Zayn says, eyes full of concern as he looks Liam over.

“Course,” Liam says automatically without thinking. That gets him an even more concerned look from Zayn and Liam sits up properly, trying ineffectively to clear his throat of the raspiness that he already knows won’t fade for at least another couple of hours as he rubs at his eyes and takes in deep breaths of the crisp winter air to wake himself up fully. It’s not until he’s more alert and full awareness of the situation catches up to him that he realizes just how fucked he is—how this must all look to Zayn—and finds himself scrambling for some sort of halfway believable explanation but coming up completely blank.

He’s naked, covered in dirt and possibly a bit of blood, being woken up in his own backyard miles from the “conference” Zayn believed him to be at and smelling like absolute filth. And his first response had been to act like everything was totally fine and this was all completely normal—which it is for the most part, for _him_ , with the exception of waking up in his own backyard. Zayn though is looking at him like he has two heads and Liam shakes his head quickly, trying to backtrack.

“I mean…um…” Liam falters, grasping at straws for to how to explain any of this without revealing everything he’s tried to keep so carefully hidden. “…Would you believe me if I said I was kidnapped and I have no idea how I got here?” he tries.

Zayn just blinks at him.

*

“So…your not-butch, not-all-male, not-douchy mates from the construction conference...that you _just_ told me wasn’t at all like a frat…kidnapped you, stripped you, and left you naked and covered in dirt and blood in your own backyard…all as part of some sort of elaborate hazing ritual?” Zayn repeats slowly, squinting at Liam dubiously.

Liam nods, fidgeting in his seat at the counter in a lame attempt to avoid Zayn’s eyes. He’s showered and fully clothed now and nursing a mug of tea Zayn made for him to “warm him up” after being left naked in the freezing cold for so long. He doesn’t bother telling Zayn that he doesn’t really need it. The cold doesn’t much bother him in his other body, and even once he turns back it takes a little while for normal human sensitivity to really set back in anyway.

“So, then, are they gonna bring back your van too? And your clothes and all your other stuff that got left there?”

Liam looks up at him, startled two-fold. One, because he hadn’t expected Zayn to actually believe him, though he supposes he still might not but it could just be that he doesn’t wanna pry and is just willing to go along with it because he thinks it’s what Liam wants. And two, because he hadn’t thought of any of that himself and is now wondering how the hell he’s gonna reach the others to let them know what happened (and see if they can bring back his stuff for him) without his phone.

“You know, on second thought, I don’t think I wanna meet your friends after all if they’re the kind of arseholes that would pull some shit like this and just dip. Leave you with your dick swinging in the wind. Literally…” Zayn says, plopping into the seat next to him at the counter and shaking his head.

*

When it happens a second time Liam tries to pass it off as just as another part of the prank. Zayn seems skeptical but still lets it slide.

But when it happens a _third_ time. Well. There’s only so much that can feasibly be swept under the rug and even Zayn can only play along for so long.

*

“Your friends are _dicks_ ,” is the first thing Liam hears when he wakes up in his own backyard. Again.

He comes to groggy and half out of it and it takes a second for the words, and the person the voice belongs to, to register but when it does Liam sits up abruptly and sighs.

Zayn’s squatting next to Liam but regards Liam carefully as he sits up, looks him in the eyes for a long time before he says somberly, “It’s not really your friends, is it?

Liam sighs again, lets the silence drag on between them for a long while before he shakes his head, shoulders sagging, “No.”

Zayn doesn’t ask any more questions, just nods solemnly and stands, offering out a hand to help Liam up.

Later, showered and dressed, he sits on the couch facing Zayn and stutters through an explanation. About his changes, about the real reason he goes on those monthly retreats and how they’re not really conferences at all.

“So…let me get this straight,” Zayn says, slowly running a hand through his hair and looking back up at Liam with crinkled brows, “you’re a werewolf…and you’ve been making up all these elaborate stories trying to hide it from me—a vampire—for five months because you thought I—a vampire—would somehow be repulsed by you and the fact that you turn into an animal if I knew the truth, even though I’m, again, a _vampire_ , i.e. also a mythical creature that feeds on others and that most people are repulsed by.”

Liam shakes his head emphatically, frustrated. “That’s isn’t—it’s not the _same_. You don’t turn into a completely different _species_. Sure, you need to drink a bit of blood here and there to survive but other than that you’re practically normal. You eat, you sleep, you look just like everyone else 100% of the time. You don’t turn into an animal every month and go on a wild murderous frenzy through the wilderness on the hunt for a chunk of anything living.”

Zayn shrugs. “Some would beg to differ.”

“I’m not talking about metaphors, Zayn—”

“Neither am _I_. You think people don’t think the same way about vampires? Was that not pretty much exactly how you thought of _me_ when I first told you? As some monster constantly on the hunt, out for everyone’s blood? You really think I, of all people, would be turned off by the idea that you’re also secretly a supposedly dangerous mythical creature? That we actually have more in common than I thought? That I wouldn’t understand having to live with this terrible, monstrous part of yourself that you can’t control?”

Liam falters, shoulders sagging, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know,” he says lamely. He hadn’t thought about it that way, about all the ways this could actually bring them closer together instead of force them apart, all the reasons why Zayn is actually one of the few people in the world who could possibly understand, who could _relate_ even. He’d been too focused on his own shame and guilt, too consumed by his own fear of all the ways Zayn finding out the truth could go wrong (all the ways it _has_ gone wrong with others in the past) that he hadn’t stopped to think about all the ways it could go right. All the reasons Zayn has _not_ to be freaked out by all this. “I’m just so used to it being this huge secret in my life,” Liam finally says, trying to explain. “I guess…I guess I was just so caught up in thinking about how weirded out you might feel and how angry you would be that I’d been lying to you all this time cause that’s what I’m used to worrying about that I didn’t think about you reacting any other way.”

“Well, I’m not,” Zayn says simply. “Mad, I mean. Or weirded out. I think it’s kinda cool actually.” He brings his knees up to rest his chin on and wrap his arms around. “I mean, all the people in the world, all the _doorsteps_ in the world, and I ended up on yours, a werewolf’s.” He grins but it’s more to himself than to Liam.

Liam finds himself smiling a little too though despite himself, can’t help it around Zayn, around that soft smile. He supposes it _is_ kind of cool when he thinks about it.

“One thing I still don’t get though…” Zayn says, looking up at Liam contemplatively now, “I mean, you coming back here…that’s not, like, your usual thing, right? Like I get going way out into the wilderness to make you sure you’re far away from people and that, but seems like it kinda defeats the purpose if you just come right back here, right? I mean, otherwise you would just change here instead of going all the way out there to change, yeah? Unless it’s like some sort of seasonal ritual? I mean, you didn’t do it the first couple months, so does it have something to do with winter or some other werewolf thing or…?”

Liam smile falters and he turns away, gaze shifting down to the carpet, chews at his lip and rubs at the back of his head. “Um…no, it’s—it’s not normal. I’m not really sure why it keeps happening to be honest. It just…does.”

It’s mostly true. It’s never happened to him before and there’s no concrete reason why it should be.

His friend Louis has a theory about it having something to do with Liam being subconsciously in love with Zayn and seeking out his “mate” but no way is he telling Zayn that of course. Even if there was any actual credence to it it’s ridiculous. He’s not _in love_ with Zayn. They have great sex and they spend a lot of time together obviously given the current situation but he’s not _in love_ with him. And anyway Louis’ theory is based on some flimsy, very-likely-embellished anecdotal evidence at any rate. Some story his mate, Harry—mate as in _actual_ mate, like partner-for-life-mate, not friend-mate—shared with them all after Liam’s first incident about how sometimes when werewolves fall in love with non-werewolves, when they’re in their other form their wolf will go seeking out their mate in an effort to be close to them again. Something to do with it feeling “unnatural” to be away from them since wolves usually mate for life and all that jazz. Evidently something like that happened to a couple of Harry’s distant relatives, though Liam’s skeptical, fairly certain it’s just family gossip. A sappy fairytale passed along to entertain Harry and his cousins as children. Not that Liam himself has any actual concrete evidence to the contrary seeing as every other werewolf he’s ever known has been mated to another werewolf. It’s fairly rare for werewolves to mate with non-werewolves, so _in theory_ he can’t deny that it makes some amount of sense that given a situation like that where a couple wouldn’t be able to spend the turn in wolf form together, the next best thing would be for the wolf to just try to be close to their mate during the turn.

But that’s all it is. Just a theory. Based on a story that may or may not even be true. There’s nothing to prove that that’s what’s happening with Liam, despite Louis and Harry’s claims to the contrary, whenever he so much as even mentions Zayn’s name, that Liam’s obviously “lovesick” and “head over heels.” Some of it’s just good-natured teasing, he knows, but he also knows that some of it’s not. That as much as they may joke and take the piss, they’re also partly serious.

“You don’t let some random stranger off the street stay in your house for free for this long unless you’re at least a little bit in love with them, Liam,” Louis had said just last month (four months into Zayn’s now five month stay). “If this were even remotely non-romantic you’d have started charging him rent by now. And you definitely wouldn’t be letting him sleep in your bed on the regular or making him breakfast.” And then he’d lifted a huge hunk of mostly-raw stake onto his fork and into his mouth. And Liam of course had regretted ever revealing that little tidbit about breakfast in bed to him.

But the thing is they may know a lot about the situation (thanks to Liam and his stupidly big mouth and penchant for accidental over-sharing), but they don’t know _everything_. They don’t know _all_ the details. For instance, they don’t know Zayn’s a vampire—Liam had decided pretty early on that that wasn’t his secret to tell and not really any of their business anyway. And they don’t know that the real reason he hasn’t started charging Zayn rent and has let him stay around this long has nothing to do with any romantic feelings. Well, mostly. Okay, partly. Okay, a little more than partly. But that’s besides the point.

The real reason (the one that’s Liam’s been trying very hard to convince himself is the _main_ reason and definitely not anything else) is that he knows how much Zayn’s had a rough go of it. Not just in the last couple years, but even over the last few months, in trying to get an actual paying job and get some semblance of his life back. It’s not like he’s not trying, it’s just he didn’t exactly have an established career. Mostly just odd jobs here and there—and not even very good ones—and not a lot of people are willing to hire someone with a two year gap in their work history. It just makes him look suspicious and unreliable, like he’s got something to hide. Seeing a history of him jumping around from job to job, never staying at one place for more than a year at a time and then falling completely off the map for two years, it’s not exactly the picture of the stable, trustworthy, hard worker that most employers are looking for. Getting back on his feet has proven to be a lot harder and take a lot longer than either of them expected, but Liam would be an awful, awful person if he started charging Zayn rent _now_ , or worse yet, kicked him out. He’d never forgive himself. Not that he could even see himself going through with it anyway. He doesn’t even think he’d be able to stomach getting the words out.

But, point being, he has valid reasons—valid _non-romantic_ reasons—for letting Zayn stay, no matter how strange it may look to Louis and the others. And he’s not in love with Zayn. His wolf form’s just…being weird. Either he’ll figure it out eventually and come up with a way to nip it in the bud or he’ll eventually just stop on his own, whichever comes first. But it has nothing to do with Zayn.

*

Okay, maybe it has a _little_ to do with Zayn.

Alright, maybe a lot.

Normally his memories from turns are pretty fuzzy once he transitions back, more just a blur of trees and wildlife, the smell of earth and underbrush and the taste of game. But he’s still _him_ even in his other form, a part of his human consciousness is still there, aware, and it takes a lot of effort but if he tries hard enough he can push it to the forefront so that when he turns back certain memories are a little clearer than they would normally be. So that’s what he’s been doing. And, turns out his wolf wasn’t just being weird. In the back of his mind he thinks a part of him knew that, he just wasn’t willing to face it. But he can’t exactly just keep denying it when the truth is right there in the stark clarity of his memories. When he can still practically feel the visceral _pull_ drawing him back towards Zayn, the basal _need_ to be near him, the feel of the earth under his paws and the crisp winter wind through his fur as he ran through miles and miles of forest and backwoods, and the overwhelming sense of calm that washed over him when he finally reached his house. When he lay in his backyard looking up at his own bedroom window, watching Zayn’s silhouette move through the room, whining softly to himself, knowing he couldn’t go in, couldn’t be closer.

So, yeah, he’s well and truly screwed because apparently he might just actually be in love with Zayn and that’s…he doesn’t know what to do with that information. Doesn’t know how to _deal_. Things were complicated enough when it was just meaningless sex (though he supposes now that he lets himself really face it and admit it, it was never really just meaningless sex). But now he’s gone and gotten _feelings_ , and not just minor maybe-this-could-be-something feelings, but _real, serious_ feelings. As if he really needed things to get anymore messy than they already were.

“You gonna tell him?” Niall says on FaceTime as Liam drives back home from a gig, phone on the mount on his dash cause he’s not a reckless driver. Niall’s in Australia for the next few weeks before he’s back home and there’s free wi-fi practically everywhere in Australia so he’s been calling a lot more often. Today he’s calling from a pub, and even though it’s only afternoon here it’s pretty late in the night there (or early in the morning depending on how you look at it) so the pub’s pretty crowded and of course Niall knows, like, everyone so every so often he’ll turn away from the phone to shout greetings at people across the room or toast drinks with someone. Liam waits until he’s turned back from the latest newcomer before he answers.

“No.” He pauses, sighs. “I don’t know.”

Niall gives him a pointed look. “You should tell him, Li. Y—” There’s a brief commotion as Niall shifts around to yell something excitedly at someone else, laughing loudly, everything becoming a blur as he moves the hand holding his phone around wildly and then he comes back into focus again, turning back to Liam, expression serious again. “You can’t keep your feelings bottled up forever. Especially if it’s this serious. I mean, if he really is potential…‘mate’ material you can’t just pass that by and not say anything.”

Liam really wishes they could be having this conversation face to face, or at least in the same time zone. But he’s long since learned to take the opportunities he can get with Niall cause he never knows when he’s gonna go weeks or months without being able to hear from him.

Liam shakes his head miserably. “I don’t know, I mean…what if it just makes things unbearably awkward? What if it scares him off? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Actually, I’m like 90% sure he _doesn’t_ feel the same way.”

“What if _it doesn’t_? What if he _does_? What if he feels the exact same way and you two live happily ever after in everlasting bliss and all that? Look, I know you don’t exactly have the rosiest history with relationships, but you won’t know until you talk to him. You can’t just spend your life dwelling on all the bad what-if’s, especially if this could really _be_ something. Do you really wanna miss out on a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love just cause you were too scared to face the music and be honest about your feelings? Spend the rest of your life regretting not taking that leap? _Talk to him_ , Li. Give him a chance.” There’s a brief pause as Niall looks somewhere off-screen, loud, angry yelling starting up in the background somewhere followed by loud crashes that sound like something falling or breaking or possibly all of the above. “Shit. I gotta go.” Niall says turning back to him. “Love ya, mate.” Another loud clatter followed by even louder, angrier yelling. “ _Talk_ to him,” is the last thing he says again before he’s abruptly hanging up.

On some level Liam knows Niall’s right, but getting himself to man up enough to actually do it is probably gonna be about as easy a process as working up the nerve to talk about whatever they are. Which he still hasn’t done either. He really needs to work on growing some balls. But those are problems for another time, at the moment what he’s more concerned about is getting out of this godforsaken traffic.

When he comes home though it’s to a rather unexpected sight. He pulls into his drive, just happy to finally be out of rush hour traffic and looking forward to settling in for the rest of the afternoon. But when he gets inside he stops short. Zayn’s back in his tattered clothes from the day he first got there, jacket and all, standing in front of the door, looking like he’s on his way out.

“Oh. Um…hi,” he says sheepishly, backing up a bit when Liam nearly runs right into him on his way in the door. Finds himself struck with déjà vu at the words yet again, taken back to that very first day when he’d found Zayn in his van, pale and small and desperate.

“Hi…?” he says slowly, hesitantly, throwing a confused and questioning glance down at Zayn’s outfit. “Um…are you…like…headed out to—to meet someone or…? Cause you know you can borrow my clothes, right? I mean, like, it’s not one of those things where you’re only allowed to wear my stuff when I’m around or anything…”

Zayn opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “Um, no, I—um, that’s not it. I…I, um…” he falters, sighs deeply, then seems to steel himself and look back up at Liam. “I’m leaving,” he announces, then looks away quickly like he can’t even bear to keep looking Liam in the eyes after he’s said it. “I…I was hoping to be gone before you got back so this wouldn’t be so awkward but, I wasn’t, um, I wasn’t expecting you back this early. Um…” he trails off, looking uncomfortable but Liam doesn’t even really register anything else he’s saying because his brain’s still stuck on the words _I’m leaving_ , kind of short circuited and lost all ability to process anything after that outside of those two words echoing around in his head on repeat like a taunt.

“…Wh—what,” he says belatedly.

Zayn shuffles from foot to foot, looks around awkwardly, everywhere but at Liam’s face, shrugs. “I mean, s’getting warmer now, innit? With it being almost spring now and all? No real need for me to still be here. I mean, like, I promised I wouldn’t overstay my welcome but I kind of…did. A lot. Like six months a lot, and you’ve been really great and, like, super generous when you didn’t have to be,” he’s speaking in sort of a rushed jumble now, “like honestly I won’t ever be able to thank you enough for being so nice and letting me stay here for so long and everything you’ve done for me, and I promise as soon as I’m able to I _will_ pay you back for everything, but I’m sure you’re probably really tired of having an unintentional semi-permanent houseguest invading your space and stuff by now, so I just—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Liam says surprising even himself with the sudden interruption, with the sharpness of his tone.

“…What?” Zayn says, looking lost and confused and a bit surprised at being cut off so sharply.

Liam shakes his head. “Don’t,” he repeats, softer this time. “Don’t go.”

Zayn still looks confused. “But…but I…what.”

Liam takes a deep breath. If there was ever a time to man up, it’s now. “I don’t want you to go,” he confesses, looking at Zayn warily. God, he’s so afraid he’s gonna scare him off but he can’t just let him leave. He has to tell the truth, about how he feels, all the things he’s kept bottled up all these months. He has to at least _try_. Even if it ends in disaster and his own heartbreak at least he can say he tried.

He takes Zayn’s hand, leads him over to the couch. Waits until Zayn’s settled, against the opposite arm facing him, before he speaks.

“I…” he stops, swallows, starts again, “I don’t really know how else to say this without freaking you out so I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I’m…sort of…in love with you? And I think you could maybe possibly be my mate? And I’m aware of how weird that sounds and if you still wanna leave, I totally understand—”

“Whoa, Liam.” There’s a sudden hand on his thigh that he hadn’t even realized he’d been bouncing anxiously until now. “Just…just relax, yeah?” He waits until Liam’s looking up at him, into his eyes before he speaks again. “Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay? Not if you don’t want me to. I…um…” he hesitates, looking like he’s contemplating whether he should even say what he’s about to say next before he finally takes a deep breath and seems to make a decision. “The truth is…I wasn’t really just leaving because of the change in the weather. I mean, that was part of it, or rather, that was my excuse anyway, but really…I was sort of leaving because…because my feelings were starting to scare me. I thought…I thought it was just me and I was afraid that if I stayed I was only gonna end up getting hurt. I was afraid that I would just end up falling for you even more and making things worse for myself. So I thought I’d make a quick getaway while you were gone. I even left a letter on the counter and everything explaining it all just so you wouldn’t think I just ran out on you with no explanation, but I figured if you didn’t feel the same way it’d be better for me if I was far away when you read it and found out the truth so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting my heart broken. I never thought…I mean, I’m a mess, yeah? I never thought someone like you would…would ever feel the same away about me…I guess what I’m saying is…I’m sort of in love with you too? And if you want me to stay then I’ll stay. But only if it’s what you really want.”

“I do,” Liam says immediately, nodding emphatically. He reaches out hands to cup Zayn’s face, to pull him in for a kiss, and then realizes he’s not sure if that’s okay right now and instead hesitates, hands hovering until Zayn nods and leans into him. Fingers curling around Zayn’s jaw he pulls him in until their lips meet and even though they’ve done this a thousand times by now somehow it feels just as exhilarating and intoxicating as their first. Leaves him feeling drunk and keening for more almost as soon as it starts but he forces himself to pull away because this is kind of an important conversation that he’s already putt off entirely too long.

“So, ‘mate’…” Zayn says with a grin when they part. “I take it you don’t mean that in the friendly kind of way?”

*

“So…vampire, huh?” Niall says, leaning against the sink, squinting at Zayn from across the kitchen a month later. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be like…mortal enemies?”

Zayn shrugs, nonchalant. “Probably.”

Liam turns from his seat at the kitchen counter to smile at Zayn, waits till he’s closer to pull him into his lap to Zayn’s surprised but delighted chuckle.

“Not sure what you’re on about, Niall,” Liam says, nosing into Zayn’s jaw only to get a bashful smile in return. “I treat all my mortal enemies this way. Well…the hot ones anyway.”

Zayn rolls his eyes acting like he means to push Liam away but he’s smiling as he sits still just long enough to let Liam press a gentle kiss to his jaw anyway.

Niall just scrunches his nose up at them. “Gross. _Why_ did I ever think it was a good idea to encourage any of this. Hashtag regrets.”

*

_Two months later_

Liam’s got the windows open, warm spring wind blowing through his hair as he cruises down the highway in the van, Zayn in the passenger seat beside him, feet propped up with a stack of comics in his lap and one in his hands, pages flitting in the breeze as he reads. In the back are two large coolers, one full of raw meat and the other full of three orders (enough for the whole weekend) of raththam poriyal—a lamb blood curry stir fry dish—from an Indian restaurant that Zayn recently found nearby and has started ordering on the regular, the perfect mix of food and blood for his specific needs. Also in the back are Loki and Watson, neither of whom can seem to stop pacing excitedly in their kennels. To be fair it’s their first time up to the cabin so their excitement is warranted, if a little exasperating. They’d unfortunately had to leave Luna, the kitten they just got, with Niall for the weekend though, as with her being such a new addition to the family Liam doesn’t quite trust his wolf yet not to hurt her. Which means their new snake Fang’s got the house to himself for the weekend, figuratively speaking of course since he’ll just be chilling in his tank till they get back anyway.

Liam glances over at Zayn and finds himself getting lost in how he good he looks; long hair ruffling in the wind, long legs clad in ripped skinny jeans splattered with paint (from the freelance mural painting gig he just got), one combat boot propped up against the dash and the other using their joint duffle as a footrest, low white v-neck t-shirt fluttering in the breeze. The one that’s practically see-through, putting pretty much all his tattoos on display, with the collar that goes low enough to show off that stupid red wolf tattoo he got that always makes Liam wants to bite him when he sees it, mark him up even more.

“Eyes on the road,” Zayn says, but he’s grinning a bit smugly as he continues to scan the page in front of him.

“But the view is so pretty,” Liam says, turning back to the road again anyway.

“Try calling me ‘pretty’ again and I just might rip your throat out,” Zayn says mock-menacingly.

“Love you, too,” Liam says endearingly.

At the cabin Loki and Watson run around freely, barking excitedly and sniffing at everything, the grass, the trees, and of course anything that moves. Liam gets all their food set up in the fridge while Zayn engages in a bit of banter with Louis and Harry and the others. It’s only his second time here but he already fits right in like he’s been with them all along, messing around laughing and making jokes like they’re all old friends.

When Liam comes back over from the fridge Louis says, “You know I love your dumb dogs and little Luna’s a darling, but if it starts becoming a regular thing for you all to bring your entire house of animal children up for the turn every time we’re gonna have a problem. I am not down with sharing my space with snakes and lizards and naked mole rats and whatever other freaky things you all might decide to bring home.”

Liam snorts. “Noted.” Then toasts the bottle of Stella Louis passes to him with Harry and the others while Zayn nurses a cup of Jack Daniels-spiked blood.

Hours later, after they’ve all gorged themselves on barely-cooked steaks and more beer, a half-drunk Zayn plasters himself to Liam and one look at those sultry eyes and he’s pressing their lips together before he’s even really aware of what he’s doing.

Zayn tastes like blood and red meat and that shouldn’t be hot but right now it’s really doing things to Liam and before he knows it he’s dragging Zayn to their designated room in the cabin to bite into that damn red wolf tattoo till Zayn’s skin is as red as the ink and lets Zayn fuck him raw till the bed’s quaking, headboard banging rhythmically against the wall.

In the morning he wakes up with an all-too familiar ache in his bones and under his skin, muscle and bone already starting to shift. It’s not quick like the movies, not at first anyway. It starts off slow, subtle, just a dull ache for the first few hours as his body prepares itself for the inevitable shift. Enough time for him and the others to wolf down (pun fully intended) a breakfast of eggs and uncooked bacon—with a bit of cooked turkey bacon reserved for Zayn of course. And then they’re all making their way outside, stark-naked, while Zayn watches with the dogs from the porch.

Harry and Louis press together for one more last kiss in their human forms before the shift, as do a few of the other couples—Liam and Zayn had already had their moment up on the porch just a little while earlier to everyone’s teasing mock-disgust.

Now Liam takes one last look at the sun and trees through his human eyes, lavishing in all the rich colors that will be soon be faded and limited in his other form. The others venture further into the trees as is their usual custom, but Liam hangs back on the edge of the clearing in front of the cabin. He’d gone back and forth in his head about whether to give in or not but Zayn had wanted to see. And even though a large part of him still balks at the idea that Zayn will be watching him go through the turn he gets it. Zayn wants to _see_ him, _really_ see him, _all_ of him. And despite how uncomfortable and skittish it may make him feel to know that Zayn will be watching it happen he can’t help but also feel incredibly endeared at the fact that Zayn _wants_ to know him that deeply, wants that level of intimacy and connection with him even in all this.

The first major crack is loud in the silence of the clearing and Liam grits his teeth as the series of breaks continues down and across his whole body. Loki and Watson whine in sympathy as he doubles over. But this part is fast. Much faster than the subtle aches and changes of the morning. His skin goes tight and strained, stretching and morphing, a thin sheen of sweat covering him as he breathes through it, before the tightness shifts into an itchy and prickly sensation as the tiny hair follicles that will soon cover his entire body start to grow. His jaw aches and then becomes a piercing pain as it too breaks and shifts, sharper teeth breaking through the newly formed extension of his gums, existing teeth morphing shape to match. Sound gets louder and smells sharper and then the pain finally starts to subside, bone and muscle and fur settling. His body gives a quick shake as he feels his human consciousness start to fade, the other side of him taking over. A few more moments pass and then he gives one more shake, like he’s flicking off water, as his body and mind truly settles into this form and then he looks up.

His mate is there, smiling, eyes bright, with the dogs Liam recognizes as his own in his other form. He snuffles, taking slow steps towards them. All the while his mate waits patiently, lets Liam take his time and so he moves a little faster, and then faster, until he’s galloping across the clearing and up to the porch, stopping short at the top of the steps.

He dips his head and his mate reaches out a tentative hand to pet at his nose and then his head and behind his ears, letting out a delightful little laugh. He preens, leaning his head into his mate’s hand as the dogs nose around him excitedly and he lets them. He’s hungry and he longs for something warm to sink his teeth into but that can wait for now.

He allows the dogs to roughhouse him only a little, lets his mate card gentle fingers through his fur for a time. But he can only hold his hunger at bay for so long and before long he’s dipping his head again in parting and turning away from them. Bounds down the steps, across the clearing, and through the trees, soft earth and underbrush under his paws and the wind in his fur. The others have been waiting for him. They mull around roughhousing with each other or nosing at nothing in particular in the brush and base of trees, ears pricking when they hear him coming. He barrels into Louis, front paws up on his back and biting at his ear.

 _Thank you_.

Louis turns and snaps his jaws at him, growling and shoving at him hard, butting his head into Liam’s middle and nearly pushing him over.

 _You’re welcome, ya twat_.

Harry comes over and nuzzles his nose into Louis’ maw, both a kiss and a rally.

 _Let’s go_.

The others are still mulling about half-watching the exchange but at this they all clamor together and take off into the trees.

The hunt is as good as always. The air is crisp, the food is warm, and when night falls the moon is round and full and they call up to it in gratitude to their hearts’ content. But even surrounded by his comrades in the light of the moon and the heat of their kills, a part of Liam feels hollow and instead of rampaging through the forest with the others throughout the night like he normally would he turns back early.

Nothing can describe the feeling that consumes him as he rears up to the clearing and catches sight of his mate through the cabin windows. He’s curled up with the dogs on the sofa in front of the now blazing fireplace with a comic book in his hands and Liam howls in elated excitement at the sight.

At the sound his mate—and the dogs—jump up and bound through the door. He’s grinning as Liam lopes toward him happily and when Liam finally reaches the porch his mate presses his face into Liam’s fur and that hollow feeling melts away, leaving Liam feeling whole and complete once again.

Inside the cabin he curls up on the floor in front of the fire with the dogs, and with a full belly and fond memories of the thrill of the hunt, he drifts off to sleep to the soft, comforting sound of his mate’s voice reading aloud to him, nimble fingers carding through his fur.

*

Sometime in the early hours of dawn he makes the change back and when it’s over Zayn pulls him up to the couch, cuddling him close and throwing a blanket over them.

When he wakes again it’s to the banging around of pots and pans and the smell of meat wafting over from the stove. Zayn’s already up, chatting with Harry as he flips pieces of what smells like beef sausage and Liam sits up, familiar dull ache under his skin as he rolls his shoulders and stretches out his sore limbs, pulls on the pair of joggers Zayn must have left on the arm of the couch for him.

Zayn and Harry are talking about pack dynamics, Harry explaining that the idea of hierarchical roles like alphas and betas and omegas in wolf packs is actually a common misconception.

“There’s actually no such thing as an ‘alpha’ in a wolf pack,” Harry explains. “That whole idea was based purely on an old study where researchers had only observed unrelated adult wolves living in captivity. In the wild, wolf packs operate pretty much just like human families. There’s no defined sense of rank or anything like that and any fights that get started are less about dominance than they are about just situational stuff.”

Zayn nods studiously, clearly intrigued, and the whole thing shouldn’t be as endearing as it is but somehow Liam finds himself smiling softly at the scene anyway.

The whole pack sits strewn about—around the counter, atop the counter, in the actual stools at the counter and even at the little side table in the corner of the living area—with plates piled high with food and the kitchen is full of excited chatter and jovial laughter. The sun is streaming in through the windows, warm and bright, and the dogs are roaming around happily outside.

“They were getting too annoying with all their begging,” Louis explains as Liam saunters over and starts piling himself a plate, eyeing Zayn and hoping the _I told you so_ is clear enough from his face. Zayn refuses to stop spoiling them, claims they’re too cute and irresistible to turn down but if he keeps it up they’re only gonna get worse. And fat. And possibly die an early death due to, like, dog diabetes or something. He makes a mental note to use that in his argument as a guilt trip next time it comes up. If nothing else can convince Zayn hopefully that will do it.

He finishes making his plate and then sets it aside to wrap himself around Zayn’s back, nosing into his neck and pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there.

“Gross,” everyone intones on top of each other, a sea of wrinkled noses and fake-gagging gestures. Liam smiles. It’s the same treatment they all gave Louis and Harry when they first got together and he doesn’t mind one bit. It only solidifies for him that this is just as meant to be and right now with Zayn filling all his senses and the sound of the dogs barking happily outside and good food and his friends surrounding him he couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone was curious/wanted to see proof of the wolf pack family thing harry was talking about you can find a post about it [here](https://yaz-the-spaz.tumblr.com/post/156542800168/did-you-kno-there-is-no-such-thing-as-an) (and feel free to give me a follow if you want)!
> 
> also fun fact: while researching pictures of wolf kisses for reference i found a disturbing amount of pictures of people actually licking tongues with wolves and just…why are white ppl like this
> 
> anyway though hope y'all enjoyed and as always
> 
> Comments and Kudos = LOVE :)


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